


sleep is the daughter of love

by spikettes



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 17:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9247172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikettes/pseuds/spikettes
Summary: When Even Bech Næsheim is sleeping, you let him sleep, no matter the consequences.(Alternately, if you use Isak Valtersen as a pillow, he cannot be held responsible for any mess and/or dishevelment done to your person.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Super short disgusting piece of fluff I wrote to test the waters of this universe before I start the big Evak fic I have planned. This is grosser than I thought it was going to be, I'm so sorry.

Even doesn’t sleep much.

It’s something for Isak to get used to- the boundless energy, the bursts of spontaneity, never quite knowing what he’s going to wake up to. Even is constantly busy- with _what_ Isak is never entirely certain, but there is always something to be done, and there is never enough time to do it. There’s a pattern to his chaos, though, and Isak is finding the rhythm of it well enough. He learns to fall asleep to Even’s ever-present clamor, and soon finds that he can’t sleep without it.

Some nights, when Even is at home, the silence keeps Isak awake so long that he has to call him, late in the middle of the night, safe in the knowledge that Even is already awake.

“I can’t sleep,” he murmurs into his phone, balanced unceremoniously on his cheek as he lies on his side, his eyes closed.

“Missed my noise?” Even laughs, and puts the phone on speaker before returning to whatever mysterious endeavor he’s on.

Of course, everyone has limits, and usually when Even crashes, he crashes hard.

This is why Isak finds himself, in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, stranded on the couch beneath a soundly sleeping Even.

It’s the part of the pattern Isak isn’t quite used to yet- it’s still hard for him to predict when Even will run out of energy, and harder yet to know what kind of mood he’ll be in when he does. But he is reassured that this seems to be the part that he is naturally inclined to be better at. He is good at being quiet, and patient, and lazy.

After half an hour of lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling with a softly snoring Even wrapped around him, though, he starts to feel truly tested.

“Trapped?”

Noora is leaning in the entry to the hallway, smirking at him.

“He doesn’t get a lot of sleep,” Isak replies, defensive. Noora smiles apologetically and perches on the arm of the opposite couch.

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Can of soda?” Isak suggests hopefully, raising his eyebrows.

“Can of soda, coming up,” Noora announces, hopping off the couch and disappearing back into the hallway.

“And my laptop?” Isak calls after her. Against him, Even stirs but doesn’t wake, briefly curling tight against him before relaxing again. Isak trails his thumb in tiny, gentle circles against Even’s back. When Noora returns, she carries with her a soda, his laptop, his charger, and a bag of chips.

“You might be there a while,” she says dryly, dropping everything onto the table next to him and retreating with the corners of her mouth quirking.

The bag of chips lasts him until Eskild gets home an hour later, stopping in front of the couch and beaming smugly down at Isak, who feels like his glare is probably weakened somewhat with half his face buried in Even’s hair.

“Not a word, Eskild.”

“Okay, but-”

“Not a _word_.”

 “I just-”

“ _Leave_.”

Eskild purses his lips and turns on his heel, marching towards the hallway. He pauses at the doorframe and turns back.

“ _Eskild_ -”

“He probably doesn’t appreciate the chip crumbs in his hair, just saying,” Eskild raises his hands in surrender and flees.

Isak frowns and looks down.

“Ah, shit.”

 

* * *

 

One and a half movies later, Linn wanders in and wordlessly hands him his phone, the screen bright and full of notifications.

“That thing won’t shut up,” she grumbles, already shuffling back out of the room. Isak looks and sees three missed calls and a text from Jonas, consisting only of a string of emojis that he thinks have some kind of meaning, but one that he can’t work out. He texts back a question mark, and five minutes later Jonas’ call ID lights up his screen.

He sighs and looks down at Even, still tangled around him and napping peacefully.

“Hey,” Isak answers as loudly as he dares, threading his free hand through Even’s hair.

“Well? What do you think?” Jonas’ voice is loud even through the phone, and Isak winces and quickly turns down the volume.

“About what?”

“Why are you whispering?”

Isak clears his throat. “What was your text about?”

“There’s gonna be a pre-game this Friday but we need beer. Do you think Eskild can get us some?”

“Maybe, I’ll have to ask-”

“I can,” Even murmurs, so quiet it’s more a feeling against Isak’s chest than a real sound. He blinks and peers down at him curiously.

“You can?” he whispers, fingers tightening in Even’s hair.

Even hums against him, eyes still closed.

“Even?” Isak nudges him with his leg, jostling them both, but Even has already fallen back asleep.

“Damn it,” he mutters to himself. He really needs to pee.

 

* * *

 

Not much later, Noora and Eskild return, Eskild now wearing an ominous smile and Noora bearing a black sharpie.

“Have you considered a mustache?” she asks innocently, uncapping the marker with a sharp click.

“I’m partial to cat whiskers,” Eskild supplies, stealing the marker swiftly and moving to lounge across the arm of the couch behind Isak’s head.

Isak hums thoughtfully, reaching behind him to grab the marker from Eskild, who relinquishes it without complaint.

“I wish I could take naps like that,” Noora murmurs, watching Isak gently sketch on Even’s cheek.

“Ask Linn for tips,” Eskild smirks, leaning back on his hands. When Isak pulls back to admire his work, he hears Eskild scoff quietly behind him.

“Sap,” Eskild whispers.

They keep him company after that, Noora settling on the other couch while Eskild pulls up a chair from the kitchen table, talking in quiet voices and being nice enough not to say anything when Even shuffles closer in his sleep, or when Isak lets his lips brush against Even’s forehead.

“It seems like Isak makes a better pillow than person,” Eskild laughs.

“I think he makes an okay person,” Even responds against Isak’s chest, surprising them all. His voice is still gravelly with sleep, but both his eyes are open.

“Thanks, I think,” Isak replies, squeezing Even with the arm he already has wrapped around him.

“But you’re a very nice pillow, too,” Even smiles, sitting up and stretching. The moment he does, Isak springs off the couch and down the hall.

“Thank _god_ ,” he shouts to no one in particular, “I’ve had to pee for like _ten hours_.”

“Have I really been asleep that long?” Isak hears Even ask.

“No, Isak’s just being dramatic, as usual.”

There’s silence, but a moment later Even’s voice rings through the apartment.

“Isak, did you draw a heart on my face?”

From the other room, Isak can hear Eskild and Noora laughing.

 


End file.
